


Mirror Heat: The Musical

by pamdizzle



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: AO3 1 Million, M/M, Musicals, There might be sex, and have more fun..., don't write while intoxicated, gratuitous use of filking, nothing about this is planned, or do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamdizzle/pseuds/pamdizzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirror!Spock leaves Vulcan unbonded and broken. He can feel the absence of the bond sending him into another wave of Pon Farr, as his mind searches for the mate Spock has chosen. Unfortunately, that happens to be Mirror!Kirk who isn't unwilling to give Spock's body what it needs to stave off the fever, but he refuses to give his mind over to the Vulcan as well and cure him completely. </p><p>Prepared to be regaled (or possibly repulsed) by Mirror Heat: The Musical, a filk-crack-smutfest with popular hits from Elvis, The Turtles, and other classical greats! </p><p>(P.S. I'm probably out of my fucking mind for attempting this, but it's actually IvyCross's fault. She basically didn't issue a challenge which you can find <a href="http://ivycross.tumblr.com/post/76781703875/facemeetpalm-replied-to-your-post-since-ive">here</a> as a result of a random tumblr conversation. </p><p>Come on in, I *promise* the water is just fine...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hunk, a Hunk of Burning Vulcan...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ivycross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivycross/gifts).



 

ACT ONE: SPOCK

I cannot abide this burning, this ever-churning hell upon my loins. I’ve been rejected by my intended, and I have fought with my desires upon the sands of my homeland but it is all for naught. My Captain, so quick to prey upon the weak, refuses this once to prey upon me. My Time which we believed had receded, continues to burn slowly but surely beneath my skin. The Captain’s voice, faint and hollow, echoes between us just insistently enough to drive me into madness.

What form of Empirical Commander can I continue to maintain? What sort of Vulcan am I to succumb to such illogical purpose? And yet I _need._ I begin to _burn_ again. It is not the sands of Vulcan that call, but the golden planes of flesh, the salty musk of human sweat and the manipulative hands which only _he_ can wield. T’Pring would have sufficed, but if I am honest, I am happy to be rid of the futile link which once held us bound. The Kah-if-fee was expected, but this _ridiculous_ obsession…It rekindles the fire of my blood anew. It makes me desire shameful things, speak unutterable truths and worst of all—to _who_ but the most unsavory fiend with which I am most privileged to know?

James Tiberius Kirk, a wolf that dare not hide behind a sheep’s pathetic wool. There is no skin which can contain his exuberance for victory, his penchant for survival and his talent for deceit. Above all others, I hold him in my esteem and yet to utter such diatribe aloud would be the utmost humiliation. Kirk will not settle himself beside any being which might require true proximity. That I am such a being is abominable, for it is this proximity that I seek…that I so desperately need in order to avoid another dance with death. Were I fully Vulcan, I would take without recourse, but the taint of my lesser blood is strong enough to possess me with a conscience and the curse of a reason that not even the fever can abate.

            His body would be easily surmountable, but his mind is not something I can indifferently destroy. Humans are so ruled by their flesh, and yet it is only by choice that they relinquish what a Vulcan needs to vanquish the unrelenting heat of Pon Farr. I could rut against Kirk until we were both sick with dehydration, but without his willing mind I will forever burn asunder.

            I have told him of my desires, and I will continue to present them to him until he relents. I will pace these floors before the blazing totem in my quarters until it is time for my duty shift to begin. Someone must keep the ambitious young wolves at bay, and the Captain cannot do this alone. Until I am rendered to a state which begs my confinement, I must continue to be that force but if…if this continues, I will not be fit to remain here. I will venture to the monasteries at Gol and waste the remainder of my years toiling as an embittered eunuch.

            _No._ I will not meet with that fate. I will persuade him to give to me that which we have both desired but failed or, more accurately, _feared_ to initiate. He will be mine, and I will be his. Together, we will continue as we always have but mightier and more successful. We will bring this empire to its knees, but first…first…

“Surak Almighty,  
I feel my temperature rising  
Higher, higher  
It's burning right through my Katra  
  
“Kirk, Kirk, Kirk,  
You’re setting my blood on fire  
My brain is flaming  
And next time you can’t say no!  
  
“Your gazes lit this pyre  
Like a death song on my lyre  
Sooth my biology  
With burning love  
  
“Ooh, ooh, ooh,  
I feel my temperature rising  
Help me, I'm flaming  
I must be a hundred and nine  
Burning, burning, burning  
And nothing can cool me  
I just need a lover’s stroke  
And I’ll be fine  
  
“A mind meld will cease this fire  
Bonded, we’ll take the Empire,  
And they’ll all bow to our might—  
With burning love  
  
“It's coming closer  
The flames are taking my body  
Please Kirk just fuck me  
I will not get in your way!  
It's hard to breathe  
Ah! My chest is a-heaving  
  
“Surak Almighty,  
I’ll burn a hole wherever I lay  
Come and fuck me from this fire!  
I’ll chase you round the Enterprise—  
Our minds will be as one  
With burning love  
With burning love  
Ah, ah, burning love  
I'm just a hunk, a hunk of Vulcan love  
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love  
Just a hunk, a hunk of Vulcan love  
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love  
Just a hunk, a hunk of Vulcan love  
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love!”

 

 

“Commander Spock, answer your comm!” Only the doctor would dare to interrupt my meditation.

I must answer his call, however, as my continued medical clearance depends upon it. “What is it?” I ask. It is once again becoming difficult to maintain my composure.

“Your security team needs to escort you to sickbay before you report for duty this morning. You’ve got another couple rounds of tests due before we’re through—Empirical orders.” The doctor’s voice sounds strained, but that is only to be expected.

Things are awkward between the three of us now, as we navigate an unlikely camaraderie. Kirk and I both owe him our lives; a fact that neither of us will forget but of which both of us are logically wary. “I will report to sickbay within approximately twelve minutes. Spock out.”

 

 

 

 

           


	2. A Captain's Dilemma

“Captain,” Spock’s voice is quietly urgent as the Vulcan pleads to me. “Join with me in the way of my people, and together we will reshape the empire.”

            I snort at his delusions. “Reshape it into what, Spock?” I ask. It is the other Kirk’s fault that I am made to suffer my commander’s new zeal for empirical insubordination. “What would you have us do? Steal away and align ourselves with those peace-loving pussies of the Klingon Federation?”  

            “I would have us achieve whatever it is you wish,” Spock answers in a way I assume means to be sincere. How can he not see the _logic_ behind my reasons for refusal? Were it enough to fuck the Vulcan into the mattress until neither of us could see straight, my answer would have been immediate and I’d have buried myself deep within the heat of his body days ago. But nothing is ever so simple with Vulcans, and not _my_ Vulcan in particular. McCoy has confirmed our suspicisions about Spock's unresolved mating cycle and so here we are, again. Spock…he has become nearly as necessary to me over the years as the Enterprise herself, but there is little I can achieve without the center seat, and I will not risk my command for anything. Not even something I have desired as much as this.

            “Spock,” I say as raise my fingers to his face. He’s been so open since this began. He allows me to touch him as I have often times wished to do, _would have_ done long ago but for his vigilant guards. Here, alone in my cabin and trusting that I will not kill him…because we both know that I will not. _I want him_. I have always wanted him, a fact which Marlena once constantly used to taunt me in the past. I just can’t see how _keeping_ him, and what’s more, _belonging_ to him would ever be a viable option. The Terran Empire is not one built on trust or the selfless sacrifice of others. “I refuse to bond with you in any way. You know what my concerns are, and I’m not going to repeat them.”

            “Would you then…” he begins to ask. I can feel my jaw clench as he gently places his own dagger against my open palm. He is kneeling before me, his head bowed so I can't see his eyes—his shame—as he offers me his weapon. “Kill me…when the Time comes.”

            I can't just kill him. I am no stranger to killing or apathetically observing death, but Spock’s death. Spock…

            “Of course,” I lie. I will see him indefinitely sedated before I witnesses the life drain from his eyes, his blood bleeding out over my hands. This would be the only stain of death that I could never wash away, and yet…I cannot bring myself to save him either.

            He kisses me. I allow it. More, I kiss him back. If I could love…I would love him. But I can't abide it, and so I help him to stand before me at the edge of my bed. I unclasp his trousers and inhale the scent of his sex and it makes my senses flare. His cock is hard and leaking, in desperate need of relief. This I can do…ease his pain and keep the fever at bay, and I will continue to do this because I need my First Officer. I need his power, the fear he stirs within my enemies and the cold logic he employs in times of counsel. I take him into my mouth, because I will not take him into my mind. I love him with my tongue, because I cannot afford to do so with my heart.

            I do this because I want to; because his moans are for my ears alone; because his abandon is for my touch and no other's and I am a greedy, selfish bastard. I want to fuck him. I want to pin him to my bed, face down, and fill him with my cock until he curses me in Vulcan tongues. I want to feel him from the inside, and leave a piece of myself buried deep within. I want to come on his back and in his hair, I want to rub it in with my hands and then taste it on his skin when I’m finished. I want to drink him until there’s nothing left. He knows all of this. We're already bonded, in a way; a nascent thread between our conscious minds. It's the only reason he hasn't yet lost his mind to the fever...but he will.

            I close my eyes and bob my head, his hands resting on my shoulders. I let him stroke my face and feel the small connection between us. He can't take without my permission or he will only die more quickly. _Come_ , I think at him, _give it to me._ I cup his testicles and suck on the tip as my hand strokes his shaft once, twice and he is pulsing against my palm. I drink every drop of him and savor it. There is every chance that today will be the day that he loses it. Any day now, actually. As disgusting as my own feelings are to me, I can’t deny them when he’s like this.

            “Thank you, Captain,” he rouses me with his voice, once again placid and in control.

            I stroke his thighs soothingly as he refastens his uniform. I really do regret that I can’t give him this one thing. That I can’t save him…won’t save him. “Think nothing of it, Commander,” I return with as much detachment as I can manage. I can’t bear this, watching him leave, resigned to his Vulcan fate.

            Before he reaches the door he turns back to me, and says, “There is still time, James, to reconsider. Think of the advantage you would have among the leaders of my people were you to bond with the son of their overlord. Consider the power it would afford you among this crew. No one would dare challenge you, the constant attempts on your life would recede. As Captain and Commander we are formidable; but with a fully formed telepathic bond between us, the edge it would give us, we would be unstoppable.”

            He leaves without another word and I watch him go, considering. The point which he neglects to raise is the danger his proposal poses to me from himself. I won't be controlled, and while I have very little reason to doubt Spock’s honor, so very little is known about the ways of Vulcans. The telepathy makes them just as dangerous as it makes them valuable. Can I trust him? I’ve no experience in trusting other sentient beings, the only thing I’ve ever trusted is my ship and my ability to command it.

            Could I risk her? Could I risk the Enterprise to save Spock? I don’t know but…I refuse to be at the mercy of another. I won’t let anyone get between me and my command, not even Spock...

“Nothing Spock can say,  
Will tear me away,  
From my Ship.  
Nothing he could do,  
'Cause I'm stuck like glue,  
To my ship.  
I'm sticking to my ship,  
Like a comm to a signal,  
Like thumbs to a thimble,  
We, fly assembled!  
I can tell you from the start,  
I can't be torn apart from my ship.  
Nothing Spock can do,  
Would make me come unglued,  
From my ship.  
(My ship)  
Nothing he could buy,  
from my cold fingers could pry,  
Enterprise!  
(Enterprise)  
I give my ship,  
My blood and honour,  
I Command her,  
And no other! 

You'd better be believing,  
I won't be deceived from,  
Enterprise.  
As a matter of dominion,  
I think she’s tops,  
My opinion is,  
She’s the cream of the crop,  
As a matter of taste,  
To be exact,  
She’s my ideal,  
As a matter of fact.

No love-struck half-Vulcan,  
Could steal command,  
of my ship.  
(My ship)  
No lover’s bait,  
Could ever take the place,  
of Enterprise,  
(Enterprise)  
She may not be a battle-star,  
But when it comes to being profitable,  
We are!

There's not a soul today,  
that could pry me away,  
From my ship.

No love-struck half-Vulcan,  
Could steal command,  
of my ship.  
(My ship)  
No handsome face,  
Could ever take the place,  
Of Enterprise,  
(Enterprise)  
She may not be a battle-star,  
But when it comes to being profitable,  
We are!  
No love-sick half-Vulcan,  
Can seduce me away,  
From my ship.  
(What'cha say?)  
No love-sick half-Vulcan,  
Can seduce me away,  
From my ship.  
(Tell me more! )  
No love-sick half-Vulcan,  
Can seduce me away,  
From Enteprise."

 

I leave my quarters and head to the bridge with a sigh. If only things were simpler. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XXXXXXXXXXXXX
> 
> Okay. So that's part 2. The song is filked from "My Guy" by Mary Wells. Here's a video if you're looking to hear the tune:
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1M5eEJeT38&feature=kp


	3. The Plot of Sulu, Featuring Chekov (A Duet That is Up to No Good)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov and Sulu filk against their Captain and Commander to the key of 'Happy Together' by the Turtles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I hope you're still with this one, Ivy. I know it's been awhile. lololol

“They are weak.” Sulu says to Chekov when the doors of the turbo lift shut, affording them a brief moment of rare privacy aboard the Enterprise. The Captain’s guards were constantly watching, and when their backs were turned, it’s the Vulcan’s men who spy relentlessly upon the bridge crew. They are, after all, the greatest threat to any hierarchy of leadership within an Empirical vessel. Sulu especially so, he can admit.

“The Captain appears as strong as ever,” Chekov replies, eyes calculating as they assess his Lieutenant.

Chekov knows well Sulu’s ambition; as well as Sulu knows the younger man’s own desperation for survival and acceptance. The Captain has never taken to the ensign, and the ship’s second in command…well, he has never taken to _anyone_. At least, not openly. But Sulu is cunning, and the ears he’s planted throughout the ship tell a different story. One that could hold a happy ending for him, if only he had a bit of help.

“Ah, but the most important link in the chain grows more and more brittle by the day,” Sulu shrewdly informs him.

Chekov turns to him, lending his full attention as he asks, “What do you mean?”

The lift opens to their destination and Sulu nods for the ensign to follow him before leading Chekov to his quarters. Sulu glances at his guards, hidden amongst the crew, as they pass them in the corridors. They watch his door, conspicuously, throughout the day. There are more who watch his other stations in his absence, and it was one of those carefully hidden allies that informed him of Mister Spock’s timely dilemma.

Chekov takes a seat on the sofa as Sulu replicates them both a drink. He keeps his tone light as he crosses the room to join his guest on the couch and asks, “Have you noticed anything strange about our resident half-breed lately?”

Chekov swallows his first sip of bourbon, face paling. Sulu watches the young man look over his shoulder warily before leaning closer and whispering, “Is this a test?”

Sulu can’t keep his eyes from rolling. For Chekov to think that he would do Kirk’s dirty work for him is infuriating. In a sudden flash of annoyance, he slaps the glass from Chekov’s hand, satisfied when it smashes against the table. “This is _the_ test!” He shouts, grateful for the soundproofed walls of a frontline Empirical vessel. “A test of your constitution. Did you not confide in me aspirations to one day assume a position such as Mister Spock’s? Is that not what you came to the Enterprise to work toward?”

Chekov nods, obviously still hesitant, as he answers quietly, “Y-yes, sir.”

“The Commander is weak,” Sulu persists, incensed with the sheer brilliancy of the situation at hand—the perfect, golden opportunity. “Soon, when the madness comes, his own guards will abandon him.”

Chekov looks stricken, as if he can’t even comprehend the idea. “In what way is he weak?”

Sulu grins, kneeling before the man with a grin that is likely just as giddy as he feels. He picks up his own glass of champagne and hands it over to replace the bourbon he’d ruined. “Forgive me for my excitement, Ensign. Do you remember our short detour to Vulcan?” He continues when Chekov nods his comprehension. “Rumor around Sickbay is that Mister Spock is dying—slowly, painfully, burning up from the inside out. Nurse Chapel believes he’s got less than a few weeks left to live.”

Chekov’s eyes brighten. “That would mean you’d get promotion to second! Congratulations!”

“No,” Sulu counters with a dark chuckle. “That means _you_ get promoted to Second.”

The ensign’s brow furrows. “But, Captain Kirk—”

“Will die shortly of a broken heart,” he interjects. “One I inflict myself, from behind, with the pointy end of my dagger.”

“You mean…”

“Oh, yes,” Sulu confidently affirms. “Only a fool would sit idly by and let a chance like this slip through his fingers. I intend to strike while the iron is hot; Provoke Spock while he’s at his weakest, draw Kirk out, and kill them both before either of them has a clue as to what’s hit them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Chekov asks, fingers twisting nervously in his trousers. “Aren’t you worried I’ll expose you?”

“You wouldn’t.” When you enlist with the Empire, you make allies. Sulu knows he’s chosen well with Chekov. “I’m telling you because I will need your help.”

Chekov opens his mouth to protest, but Sulu quiets him with a finger against the man’s lips. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to do any of the heavy lifting.” Chekov isn’t a killer, not like Sulu. The man has ambitions, and an admirable potential for ruthlessness, but he’s yet to surpass Sulu in cunning. He won’t kill unless he knows he can get away with it, unless the reward is great enough. Sulu licks his lips, hands twitching with excitement. “Simply…provide me with an adequate distraction. A small deception to keep our leaders’ security detail entertained. I’ll do the rest.”

Sulu meets Chekov’s gaze, wordlessly beseeching him to trust in his plan. Finally, the ensign nods, and Sulu wraps his arm around his shoulder with a smile. With a satisfied smile, Sulu shares his vision:

“Imagine me and you, I do

I think about it day and night, it’s only right

To think about the ship we love

With all our might, to take it together…

 

“You and I will rise up, invest the time

The power will belong to us, the Enterprise,

Imagine how our world could be so very fine,

We’ll rule it together…

 

“I can’t see me needing nobody

But you to take their lives.

If you’re with me, baby,

We’ll take them down, and the Enterprise!”

 

Finally seeming as excited as Sulu, Chekov stood and excitedly replied:

 

“Me and You, and you and me,

Now’s the time to toss the dice, and then you see

A Captain and Commander we will be, oh you and me

Space-faring together…

 

“I can’t see me needing nobody

But you to take their lives.

If you’re with me, baby,

We’ll take them down, and the Enterprise!”

 

In unison, they agreed:

“Me and you, and you and me,

We’re gonna take ‘em down this time, it’s meant to be

The only help I need is you, and you need me,

To do this together…

 

“Me and you and you and me,

Now’s the perfect time to strike, it’s meant to be,

The only one I need is you, and you need me,

To kill them together,

We’ll do it together!

 

We’ll take it together,

It’s easy together,

We’ll kill them together!”

 

Sulu clapped his accomplice on the back. “Now, let’s have another drink while I tell you how we’re going to do it.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
> 
> Right. Well. There's that. Please feel free to leave a review and collect your complimentary "I survived Act 1" ribbon on your way out!


End file.
